Fading Memories
by knee-high-socks-and-doctor-who
Summary: When eighteen year old Clarissa Fray gets shipped to England after her father dies, she becomes a nurse at an insane asylum. Her patient is the charming and mysterious, Jace. Through the tantrums and strange markings on the walls, who is Jace really?
1. What Lies Ahead

I clutched by baggage as the taxi hit a bump in the gravel rode, some of my suitcases toppling over in the seat next to me. It hit another bump and my head hit the top of the inside of the vehicle, I yelled up to the cabbie to take it easy. I pulled my gloves up further on my hands and pressed my coat to my body for more warmth. The weather in England wasn't for my taste, cold and rainy almost all the time, and it wasn't what I was hoping for after leaving the states. I had left when my father died of Tuberculosis; I was alone having my mother die while giving birth to me. I had experience being a nurse, and was shipped to England to work in an Insane Asylum that my father had wanted me to work at after I graduated from High School. When I did, he was on the edge of death, and when he died, he gave me his money (What little of it he had) and sent me on it to work here in sunny, sunny England. The cab pulled up a large ancient building, looking sp broken down it didn't look stable. I reached up to cabbie and gave him the money for the ride and grabbed my luggage, heaving it out of the door and running out into the pouring rain.

I heaved a deep breath and climbed the steps to the front entrance, opening up the doors to a waft of sudden heat from the vents above. I climbed the flight of stairs to the first floor, finding myself surrounded by people dressed in medical uniforms scurrying about with people in wheel chairs and gurneys. I slipped past most of them and walked up to the front desk, coming face to face with an older woman. Her hair was cut short into a gray bob, her smile wrinkled and worn from so many years of using it. She had a medical doctor's coat on and was filing some papers of the deceased which I avoided to look at. She looked up and smiled kindly.

"Oh, you must be Clarissa, nice to meet you, we've all been expecting you." she reached her hand out and I shook it, "My name is Linda, I'll be your boss for the time being."

I nodded quickly as she helped me with my luggage.

"Was your father Val?"

"Yes, my mother was Jocelyn; would you happen to know her?"

"Yes, we were quite good friends, such a pity she died during your birth." she jerked her head towards one of the corridors, "Follow me."

The place was scary, the hallways old with cracked walls and yellow light coming down from the over head lights. The place was surreal as I looked around. There were large windows that looked into patients rooms, letting people look in freely. It was sickening to look at, to think that these people were just specimens for us to observe.

Linda brought me to an elevator, putting my luggage down and pressing one of the buttons. There were three buttons, excluding the one of the ground entrance floor. Linda saw me looking at the buttons, answering a question I wasn't going to ask.

"The second floor is where we keep the bulk of the patients, the third floor is the hospital, and we are part Asylum and Hospital. Although the hospital mostly holds children sadly, they're mostly just dying of diseases, slowly fading away. Each day getting paler and less energetic, it's such a depressing job working here sometimes."

The doors opened up on the second floor, revealing one that looked almost exactly like the first. Linda grabbed the rest of my luggage and led me out of the elevator. We walked down yet another corridor. It was lined with multiple rooms, some the same "Observatory" ones, and others with just a door and a small window covered with a curtain. Each looking like little apartments on their own.

"This is where they keep the ones that can't stay with the other patients, will either end up strangling them or something worse. But don't worry," she said seeing the distress on my face, "This one you'll have won't be a bother, he happens to like the ladies very much, such a sweetheart towards them. If we got him a man nurse they'd be dead in a matter of seconds, that's why we only hire ladies for his nurse."

We stopped at one of the apartment rooms, and set down my luggage outside.

"Let's meet him then." she said opening up the door.

I was afraid I was going to get an old man as a patient, with the whole "only women nurses" thing, I've dealt with those, trust me.

But he wasn't he was young, no older than me, and I was eighteen. He was thin and wiry from the many years in the asylum, but there was still some meat left on his bones suggesting he was much more muscular when he was younger. His face was heavenly beautiful with a halo of golden hair around his face. He was kneeling in front of the wall next to his bed with a piece of black chalk in his hand, drawing strange markings all over the walls of his room.

"Jonathan, this is your new nurse, Clarissa,"

"You can call me Clary." I said.

He didn't say anything; he didn't even turn around, but just furrowed his brow and kept drawing. He then stopped, swallowing and turning around slowly.

"Where's Susan? What did you do to her?" he demanded.

"Susan had to leave honey; this is your new nurse, Clarissa."

"Clary," I corrected.

She turned and smiled at me, "Well, I'll leave you two to get acquainted." she left the room and shut the door behind her slowly. I waited to hear her small footsteps outside the door, but there was only silence. I could guess that she was right about waiting outside if something went wrong. I kneeled down next to Jonathan, looking at him closely as he continued to draw the markings.

"Those are very interesting drawings of yours; I personally like them very much."

"Thank you Clarissa, there has been no one who has actually said such a thing to me, they all think I'm weird." he grumbled setting the piece of chalk down in front of him.

"I don't, I think you're a very charming boy, why would people think you're weird? Because I sure think you're not."

He shook his head, "They think I'm insane, like all the other freaks here, but I'm _not_." he spat through clenched teeth.

I put my hand on his back, rubbing it slightly as he calmed down.

"Well, it was nice meeting you Jonathan; I'll be seeing you tonight then?"

"Yes," he said politely, still staring at the wall.

I walked out slightly nervous, but still continued, leaving him alone. Just as my hand came down onto the brass doorknob, he asked, "Clarissa? Would you mind if I called you Clary?"

"Yes, that would be fine Jonathan, just fine."

"Then-could you call me Jace please? I prefer it over Jonathan, if you would."

"I'll do that Jon- I mean Jace." I opened the door and entered the yet slowly quieting hallway.

Linda was still standing outside next to the door, holding my luggage in her hands.

"Are we about ready to get you moved into your room here?"

My room wasn't exactly very _big_ if I say so myself. It was actually very small, a small four poster metal frame bed with a nightstand and dresser, with a small bathroom that worked as well as dirt itself. I put away my clothes and belongings as fast as I could, also putting on my scrubs, my boring scrubs. I brushed my hair, making sure not leave any tangles in it, those bugged me to death. My hair was red, a beautiful red that was redder than blood itself, which some people thought as creepy. Linda met me outside when I was done cleaning up, and was going to show me around, give me a tour of the place to be able to know my way around.

We left on the elevator, going to the third floor. When we got off, I noticed the place was half empty, only one or two of the large patient rooms lit and alive with people. One of them was a play room for them, another was a patient room filled with kids that sat in the same metal frame four poster beds that sat along in four rows.

There was one boy who caught my eye as we entered. He was small, looked only about eight or nine-ish. He had a pair of small framed glasses hung loosely on the bridge of his nose. He had tousles of brown hair and big blue eyes that met mine. He was holding a comic book loosely in one hand and a small blanket in the other, observing me closely.

"Clary, this is Max Lightwood, Max, this is Clary Fray." Linda introduced me to the boy.

He straightened up slowly and then said something that didn't sound like it belonged on such a young child.

"Why, quite nice to meet your acquaintance Ms. Fray, I gladly shake your hand in greeting." he held out his little hand and I kneeled down and shook it.

"Quite nice to meet you Mr. Lightwood, what have you got there in your hand?" I asked him.

"A comic reading, I was planning on reading it, but when you got here I was contemplating on whether or not to ask you to read it for me Ms. Fray, you seem very well with books if I do say so myself." he smiled sheepishly.

"Why, I guess I would, thank you for your offer." I said.

I turned to Linda, "Isn't he such a gentleman?" she asked, and "He's so intelligent sometimes we don't know what to do with him!"

I climbed up onto his bed with him and let him sit my lap as I read the comic to him. He laughed at the parts that were funny, he groaned when the bad guy almost took down the good guy, and he "awed" when the hero got the heroin. Max was adorable, and it was sad to think that he was sick with some sort of disease that was eating him alive from the inside out.

Linda came over to the bed and pulled Max off of me as I slid out of his bed.

"It was a pleasure to meet you Clary," he said smiling that cute adorable smile.

"You too Max, I'll be back sometime later." I said waving back at him as we left the room.

"Ms. Fray, I think it would be around the correct time to help Jonathan to bed, you'll get used to the schedule after a while. Do you remember where his room is?"

"Yes Linda, thank you." I waved goodbye to her as I entered the elevator and she continued down the hallway.

It went down to the second floor and I stepped cautiously out into the hallway. It was dark and gloomy, some of the lights over head had shut off and some were just flickering slightly. There were hardly any nurses or doctors in the hallway anymore, leaving it empty and dark.

I swiftly worked my way to Jace's room, finding it yet again as I had left it. I opened the door just slightly, to find Jace still sitting on the floor with the piece of chalk in his hands, staring at the wall with a slightly furrowed brow.

"Jace, it's time to get you ready for bed." I said quietly, stepping in only just a little bit.

He looked up, his halo of blond hair almost glowing in the damp light of the room.

He looked down at the floor, and then nodded slowly, getting up to stand. I actually hadn't realized how tall he was. I admit he did impress me on the looks factor of him. He wore a hospital gown that was tied at his back.

I walked swiftly over to him and led him into the bathroom to brush his teeth. As he did I stared at him intently through the mirror, trying to make out his most infinite features. He paused and spit into the sink and looked at me as he wiped the foam from his mouth.

"Why are you staring at me?" he asked.

"Oh, nothing, I was just- let's get you finished up here and get you in bed Jace. " I said leaving the bathroom.

When he came out, he looked tired, purple circles under his eyelids and the way he shuffled his bare feet against the tile floor.

I patted his bed, "Come on."

He climbed into bed and I adjusted his blankets and fluffed his pillows, as I turned away to turn off the light, he grabbed at my sleeve.

"Wait, don't go."

I sat down on the edge of his bed and looked at him, holding his hand which was still clinging to my shirt.

"What?"

"Let me see something, could I have a lock of your hair?"

I furrowed my brow as he grabbed a lock of my hair and lifted it to his nose, smelling it.

"You smell good, like fruit, or flowers. What kind of shampoo do you use?"

I laughed, "Why would you want to know."

"Just so I could ask the other nurses to get me some of your shampoo for me so I could smell you when you're not here."

"Oh, well, I'll tell them that, you better get some rest though." I said standing up.

He smiled at me as I turned the light off and left the room. After I shut the door, I realized something; this boy wasn't normal. I mean, yes, he's in an insane asylum, but he's not a _normal_ insane person. I stood in the dark hallway for a while, and then turned around to the elevator. I needed to sleep on this to figure out what really was going on with Jonathan Christopher, what was really the insane mask of Jace.


	2. In the Dark

Ok, I deleted the other second chapter because I thought it was rushed, so here's the rewrite :)

Oh, and by the way, I'm going to be doing this thing called theme song chapters. Each chapter will have a theme song and the chapter will be named after the song, I might even do a little lyric piece if I'm up to it.

The first chapter will be the only one without one, cause you know I don't want to influence you on the mood of the first chapter.

Over and out,

L.C.

**~*Theme song*~**

In the Dark: Flyleaf

"**The silence overtakes me.**

**The idle word forsakes me.**

**And I'm left to face me.**

**I'm held accountable."**

It was quite a sunny day for England I admit, on my second day working at a mental hospital. I dreaded getting up, seeing that we had to be up at 6:00 a.m. every morning.

I didn't have to go visit Jace till 8:30 though, so I thought it was pointless to get up at such an early hour.

I put my scrubs on and brushed my hair, not bothering to take shower since I didn't trust the plumbing there. I brushed my teeth and went to go find something to eat, preferably an apple of my taste. I found Linda at her desk doing some paperwork as she usually was. I cleared my voice as I made my way up to her. She looked up.

"Oh, Clarissa, you're up." She smiled. "I was wondering if you'd check on Jonathon early today."

I crinkled my brow. "Why?"

"Well, he seems to be having bad night terrors lately, I just wanted you to go try and calm him down since you're his new nurse, so he can get used to you."

"Oh, well okay." I looked up at the small basket full of fruit, and I grabbed myself an apple. I made my way down the long corridor, all the way to the end where the elevator was.

I got in and went up to the second floor. I leaned up against the wall of the elevator, still eating my apple slowly. It dinged and I got out, going down the corridor to the second to last door. I knocked softly and opened the door.

"Jace? Jace, are you alright?"

No answer. I entered the room more, peering in to find Jace standing on his bed, drawing furiously with his piece of chalk on the ceiling.

"Jace! Get down from there, you're going to hurt yourself."

He only laughed.

"I'm serious, get down from there!"

"Well you see Clary, I can't do that."

"Why?" I looked up at the ceiling to view his drawings more closely.

"They'll come if I don't draw these, and I can't let that happen Clary, they'll hurt me, and you, and everybody here."

"Who?"

"I don't know, but they said they're coming after you mostly, and I have to protect you, I don't know why though, they wouldn't tell me." he paused and looked down at me. "But then I woke up."

"So it was a dream?"

"Not exactly, it was sort of like a vision you could say, but it was very blurry, and I couldn't really make out anything."

"Jace, I think you should come down now, you could get hurt."

He laughed.

"I'm serious, get down, I don't want to have to get the other nurses to get you down from there."

"The other nurses don't understand, not like you. Susan did, but she left after she found out." He suddenly looked downtrodden. "I hope I can trust you Clary, I can't trust the others like you."

"Wait, what did Susan find out?"

"She found out what the markings were, she fled here immediately after. Apparently she died a few weeks ago."

I was confused. "How'd you find that out?"

"I overheard the other nurses talking. It's like they think I'm mentally retarded, well I'm not, even if I may be mentally ill. They all think that when they talk I can't hear them or something. I'm glad you're not like that Clary, it's a great relief."

Finally he came down, stepping off the bed and sat down on the edge. "Can you keep a secret Clary?"

I nodded.

"Well, you see…" he scratched the back of his head. "I'm not a virgin."

I was completely confused by now. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Well, everybody here are all whack jobs, they're all still virgins, but I'm not. Is that weird?" there was a look of torment in his tawny eyes.

"No, not at all, it depends on your past if it's normal or not. If you were sane in the past, then-."

"I'm still sane Clary, they just put me in here because they were convinced I was dangerous. _I'm still sane_."

"Well, okay then, if that's what you think."

"It's not what I think, it's the truth. I don't belong here Clary. Although I _am_ an orphan."

"You're an orphan?"

"Yep, my mother died giving birth to me and my father died in a car crash."

"Then how'd you end up here?"

"I'll let you find that one out for yourself." He smiled and lay back in his bed.

I closed the door behind me, the concrete steps beneath my feet cold as ice. I was afraid to go down into the records room, the place where they kept every record of every person ever there. I wasn't supposed to be down there, but after what Jace had said it was just too tempting.

I knew for a fact now that Jace wasn't like the others; he was nothing like them. I had to dig deep to find what I wanted, and I was prepared for it.

I made it to the bottom of the steps; row upon row of rusting green file cabinets covered the entire floor. I had to look in the M's for Morgenstern, but I knew it wouldn't be that simple.

It took twenty minutes for me to find the three file cabinets that held the M files, each of them having three drawers to look through. It took almost a half an hour until I finally found the file: Morgenstern, Jonathan Christopher.

The file was filled to the brim with papers. I tried to find the history papers, but only came across criminal records and health information. The last three papers I found had what I was looking for. They also included a headshot of him, which made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

His lip was cut with dried blood dribbling down his chin. He had the start of a black eye and looked sullen and tired. It must have been taken only a year ago because he looked no younger than he did at the time.

My eyes searched the paper for any names I might recognize from the news possibly, anything about a death or something.

My eyes finally came across a name that looked significant. Stephen Morgenstern. From the looks of it, he was his father.

Father Stephen Morgenstern killed in car accident suspected to have been caused by son, mother Celene died in birthing of son. Patient taken in by Lightwood family at age ten, soon convicted of murder and attempted suicide at age fourteen. Found not guilty and put under heavy supervision of authorities. Patient admitted into Asylum at age sixteen for attempted suicide and trying to purposely hurt youngest member of Lightwood family. No other records found with anything to do with the patient's history.

The papers nearly slid out of my hands, my palms sticky with sweat. I shuffled quickly through the papers as I found an observation document made by one of the doctors at the hospital.

Patient has a hard time with other people, conversing and keeping a steady conversation. Can't identify with people properly without mentioning something from his "imaginary world", quickly becomes irritated or bored. Sharp objects are harmful around the patient, continually tries to slit his wrists when possible. Has convinced himself that he is sane and everyone else is not, will not speak at all if any of the staff ask him anything. Does not get along with any of the male staff, only female will he answer back to or converse with. No other further comments.

I found a physical examination file that made me choke.

Scars on arms from cuts and a long white scar runs from his jaw down his neck. Thin and seems to have tried to starve himself. Jittery, always nervous and shakes when gets real upset, can't eat very much at one time. Many small scars cover his body, along with the larger ones. His state of mind is in critical condition at the moment and will not get better if physical condition does not.

I heard the door slam from up the steps and I shoved the papers back in the file and put it back in the cabinet, crouching down as the person walked by. Whoever they were didn't stay long, got what they wanted and left without a sound.

I got up, my knees shaky and my throat dry, my tongue like sandpaper. This was scary to me. Jace was not normal, his history was lengthy and detailed and meant that he was more dangerous than everybody made him out to be. I was surprised that I even managed to get out of the file room, making my way up to the first floor with my knees still shaking and my breath raspy in my throat.

I needed to visit Jace, to ask him why they really put him in there. In the file it said he'd tried murder suicide, but to who?

I had never noticed any cuts on his arms, or any scars on his neck or on his body, but maybe because I never wanted to see it. Maybe my mind was blocking it out for some reason, like I didn't want to believe it or something.

Thoughts raced through my head like a speeding train, and I had to stop and catch my breath.

Jace scared me, and I didn't really know why.


	3. Don't Panic

So sorry I haven't been updating, I've been finishing one of my original novels. As I always say, original novels first, fanfics second.

This story won't be frequently updated, but I will continue it. The updates will probably become more frequent after school ends (Yay!) which will be in June.

Hope you enjoy it!

Over and out,

L.C.

**~*Theme Song*~**

**Don't Panic: Coldplay**

"**Oh, all that I know there's nothing here to run from.**

**Cause yet everybody here's got somebody **

**To lean on."**

I sat at the edge of my bed in my room, trying not to bite my nails in anticipation. I had needed to see Jace the entire morning, but Linda wouldn't let me check in on him until 8:00, which confused me.

I was jittery and hadn't gotten much sleep the night before, thoughts racing through my head nonstop. I still couldn't stop thinking about it.

I looked over at the digital clock, and it read 8:06. Leaping from my bed, I left my room in a hurry, my feet taking me exactly where I needed to without even having to think.

When I got to his room, the door was left ajar. I wondered why and entered the room without thinking anything more of it, and suddenly knew why.

Jace was being restrained to his bed with leather ankle and wrist straps that held him down by the bedposts. When he saw me, his face lit up, and my heart crumpled.

"Jace!" I raced over to the side of the bed. "What happened?"

"Those good for nothing doctors put me here!" he tried to sit up, but failed. "They think I'm insane Clary! You have to tell them different!" his eyes were distant, but pleading. He tried to yank his wrists free, but failed, falling back onto his bed.

"Jace, I'm sorry but I can't help you." I swallowed back the nervousness that was creeping up on me. "You're here for a reason, now could you tell me?" my voice was strangely calm, and I didn't know where it had come from.

He shook his head in distress. "I don't even know why I'm here! You tell me Clary, you tell me what that file said!"

My breath caught in my throat. How could he know about the file?

"Tell me Jace," I said in the same eerily calm voice I had used before. "Because of you don't you may not have a chance of getting out of here."

He looked up at me with saddened eyes. "They said, I would be better here. They said, I could be normal here. They said, I would be free of the charges they had against me if I agreed to be put here! They lied!" he shouted. "Now I'm just one of them, I'm just one of the insane, the lost, and the psychotic. I've become one of them." A tear spilled down one of his cheeks. "I don't want to be like them, because I'm not!" he was sobbing by now and I felt horrible for bringing this on him.

"You don't have to be Jace, if you show them you're not maybe you'll be able to leave." I swallowed. "What were the charges they had against you?"

"They thought I killed someone." He looked past me, out the window. "They thought I hurt Max. But I didn't! I would never hurt Max! That kid is like my brother and I would never lay a finger on him!"

"Jace, it's alright." I reached up to touch his face, my fingers stroking his soft cheek. "You don't have to talk about it anymore, I promise."

He looked over at me, pressing his cheek into my palm. "Clary, you're different. Different than the others."

I sighed. Not this again. "Why am I different?"

"Because you understand. I can see it in your eyes, you understand. The others just thought I was like them. You can at least see me for something different, and I like that about you." A small smile played across his lips.

The P.A. came on, Linda's voice ringing out over the loudspeaker. "Would Clarissa Fray please come to the front and escort a visitor for Mr. Morgenstern? It would be greatly appreciated. Thank you." She signed off and Jace looked over at me.

"I think I know who that is." He said.

A girl about my age with long, flowing black hair stood near the front desk with a black trench coat on and a scowl on her face.

"Clarissa, this is Isabelle Lightwood. She has come to see Jonathon." Linda said, Isabelle looking over at me with a disconcerting look.

I led Isabelle to Jace's room, the entire time neither one of us speaking. This girl was intense; it came off her in waves. Exactly the kind of person I wouldn't hang out with.

I opened the door to Jace's room and she entered without hesitation, I followed timidly.

Isabelle sat by the edge of the bed, pulling a chair up. I stood off in the corner to give them some sort of privacy.

Isabelle burst into tears, something I hadn't expected. Jace sat up, letting her lean on his shoulder.

"Alec's gone." She sobbed. "He left us, why would he leave us?" her body shuddered and shook as she cried and Jace just sat there awkwardly.

Isabelle sat back in her own chair. "Is Max alright?"

Jace nodded, his eyes flickering over to me for some reason.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I just, I had to come and tell you. I knew it would be hard to take, but I just thought you should know considering he was like your brother—"

"He is my brother." Jace corrected.

"Yeah, he is." Isabelle looked down at her lap. "I'm sorry to have bothered you, I'll be leaving now if you don't mind." She got up and made her way to the door, leaving without another word.

Jace looked up at me with sad eyes. "What's wrong with me?" he asked. "Why should I deserve this? A life where I can't be around my family? Where I can only have brief visits to know the most recent family tragedy? Clary, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I ever had to drag you into this."

"Jace, it's not your fault." I said. "I got hired and assigned to you randomly. Plus, I don't mind being dragged into this. I really don't." I walked over to him and sat down in the chair that Isabelle had been sitting in. My hand lingered at his cheek as a tear slipped out of his eye, my thumb wiping it away.

He pressed his cheek into my palm, a few more tears leaking out of his eyes. His eyes closed and he swallowed slowly. He looked back up at me, and did something I had never expected.

He made a great effort of leaning forward to meet my lips, considering he was tied to the bed. His lips met mine softly, like the brush of a feather. He pulled away slowly, looking me in the eyes with his head cocked sideways like a bird.

"Jace…you shouldn't have done that. You really shouldn't have done that." My logical mind was telling me it was completely wrong. But somewhere inside me, it felt right. I shook my head and abruptly stood up from my chair, leaving for the door.

Jace's hand caught at mine before I could leave. I turned around to look at him. He had somehow gotten his hand out of the leather restraint and had grabbed for my wrist.

He was so underweight that I could prominently see the bones in his wrist. The medical bracelet he had on was much too big and there were bruises around his wrist area from trying to get out of the leather restraint. His fingernails were bitten down to bloody stumps, proving how stressed he really was.

This sight caught me off guard and I gave in, sitting down on the edge of the bed. His hand still gripped my wrist tightly, telling me he didn't want me to leave for a while.

"You're very different Clarissa." He said. "You're not like the others."

I nodded, still looking down at his wrist.

"I wish you could understand," He said quietly. "why I do this. I wish you could see me as something other than one of the patients here. I wish— I wish you could feel the same way about me that I feel about you."

"How is it you feel about me?" I was not talking directly from my mind; I was talking from my heart. The words spilled out before I could even know what I was going to say.

Jace turned my hand over in his, tracing the lines in my palm. "I love you Clary, and you know it. You've known it this whole time!" he shouted. "I know you feel the same way but you won't admit it!"

I stayed silent, wrenching my hand out of his.

I finally spoke up. "I'm sorry Jace, but you're only a patient here, nothing more. I have no feelings towards you even if you have them for me. Having a relationship with a patient would be just wrong." I stood up from my chair. "I guess now I know why they think you're insane." I said, leaving the room without another word.

Ok, so maybe what I said to him was a little harsh. But he's insane! The kid is in love with me and I have no clue what to do! What do you think I should've done? Agreed to nonexistent feelings and say "let's run away together"? I don't think so.

I was thinking of asking Linda if she could move me to another patient, but something in my mind told me not to.

Jace was different, in a way that fascinated me. I wanted to find out more about him, without having to go snooping around in files or asking him myself.

So, I decided to ask Linda about him.


	4. Illuminated

Ugh, I'm such a terrible person. You should all just kill me! It's almost been a year since I've updated and I feel so guilty! ACK! Well, I hope this doesn't suck as bad as it might. (And also, have you noticed any improvement in my writing? I sure have, after reading previous chapters of this story O.O Man, I suck at descriptive.)

**~*Theme Song*~**

**Illuminated: Hurts**

"**Swing with your sorrows.**

**Let's try delusion for a while.**

**It's such a beautiful mind.**

**You've got to lose inhibition.**

**Romance your legal for a while.**

**Come on give it a try."**

* * *

I could feel my face heat up in embarrassment as I walked up to Linda, preparing to ask her some questions I'd been dwelling on.

"Oh, Clarissa!" she said, smiling at me.

I sighed inwardly, wondering why she never seemed get that I'd rather be called Clary.

"Um, Linda, I'd like to ask you some things about Jace."

Linda's face fell and she nodded quickly. "Come, sit in the my office."

She led me into her cramped office space and I sat down across from her in a chair in front of the desk.

"What is it you'd like to ask me dear?"

"What ever happened to Jace's father before he was here?"

Linda straightened up. "He was murdered."

"That's not what it says—" I stopped, realizing that I was telling her I had been snooping around in the files. "That's not what Jace says."

"That's because Jace denies what happened." Linda said, speaking to me as if I were a small child. "Jace's father was murdered right before his very eyes, and that is what we believe caused him to end up here. No child that young can ever really process something like that, and he was scarred for life. And because of that, he embraced violence, which wound him up in an Asylum."

I didn't say anything for a while. "Who did he murder?"

Linda suddenly looked quite alarmed. "I am not supposed to speak of that. I think you need to leave Miss Fray, there's nothing more I can tell you."

"But—"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I was soon ushered out of the office, door slammed right in my face. The puzzle pieces were still laying out on the floor, none of them put together like I wished. It was almost like I thought if I stared at them long enough they would put themselves together, but I knew that wasn't possible.

I decided it was time to see Jace, but I was apprehensive about it. After what had happened earlier, I was scared how he'd react. I was scared how _I _would react. Honestly, I didn't know what he'd do. Volatile people could not be predicted.

The place felt as empty as ever, and my only company was the taps of my shoes against the stained linoleum floor. Shadows fell across the walls in haunting portraits, and it reminded me how much I truly hated this place. It was creepy, but also dank and shadowy, like an abandoned house. But really, weren't all Asylums like this? As least the stereotypical ones were.

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. I placed a hesitant foot into the hall, put off by the flickering lights overhead. I knew exactly where his door was, exactly what to do, where to go, what to say, but it all just died inside of me as I pressed my sweaty palm to the cool metal of the doorknob.

It turned with an almost inaudible click, and it creaked as I slowly slid it open.

"Don't come in just yet, Clary."

My blood ran as cold as ice, and I froze in the doorway.

There was the sound of rustling fabric, and then he sighed. "Come on in."

I took a step forward, and then another. I came slowly into the room, shutting the door softly behind me. The curtains at the window were open, letting in gray light. The bed was made nicely, and there was a new fresh flower in the glass vase on the bedside table. Jace sat on the edge of the bed, his back facing me.

"Are you all right?" I asked. "I can get something for you—"

"I'm fine," he cut in sharply. "Just, come over here for a minute."

I swallowed, coming around the side of the bed to see him.

I screamed.

He didn't look up, still gripping the bloody shard of glass in his hand. I had no idea where he'd gotten it, and nothing seemed to be broken in the room. He'd cut the same markings into his skin that he'd drawn in chalk on the walls. He'd cut deep too, and they were all up his forearms.

"Jace, what did you do?" I kneeled in front of him, holding his face in my hands. "What happened?"

"They took it away," he said. "Took it away, and the only way to protect myself was to cut them in. Now I'll always be safe. They got through the ones on the walls, so I had to put them on myself."

"No Jace, no," I choked on tears. "You can't do that, you can't."

"I have to protect you too," he said. "I have to make you see them though, someone is shielding you. Your eyes are like mirrors, they reflect but you don't actually see. I must protect you though, because if they know you see they'll hurt you too." The shard of glass shook his grip. "Please, just let me help you."

"Who is 'they'? Who are they?"

"Them," his voice broke. "They hurt me, they hurt my family. They kill people, they're bad, and they're very very bad."

Was he schizophrenic? It didn't say anything about that in the file. But it could be very likely. Schizophrenia develops in the adolescent years, and it could very well be undiagnosed. He was shaking like crazy, and tears formed in his eyes.

"I'm going to get you help," I said. "Don't move."

Where were the other nurses? How had they not heard my scream? I leaped up from my spot on the floor and raced down the hall. The elevator seemed to be moving much too slow, and I pleaded and banged on it until it opened and I raced down to Linda's office.

* * *

"I suggest you take some time off, Clary. Just for a day or two. This can be traumatizing for the nurses as well, and I understand. Jace will be under heavy surveillance and be drugged most of the time, so we won't need your assistance."

I nodded. "Thank you." I had changed into my normal clothes, wrapping my pea coat around me tightly to seal in the heat.

I turned to leave (I was going to go into town), when Linda's voice rang out again.

"Oh, and by the way. Jonathan keeps saying something about Magnus Bane? He kept telling me to tell you that, and he insisted over and over again. So, I thought I should tell you."

The name stirred something in my mind, but I just dismissed it and left for my cab waiting outside. I rode into town, the whole time calculating the difference between pounds and American dollars.

Out of sheer curiosity, I decided to ask someone about Magnus Bane while I was at a café. The waiter chuckled, and told me he owned a small shop not far away that sold trinkets and things. He said he was an eccentric man, but liked to lie low. He said there was a rumor floating about that he things in with the police.

After I finished lunch, I decided to stroll around the area, peeking in some of antique stores and shops. It was calming, and nice. And the sun even decided to show its wonderful face, peeking through the still gray clouds.

A sign in one of the windows caught my eye, and I paused to read it.

_Magnus Bane! Psychic Extraordinaire!_

I rolled my eyes, but decided to peek inside anyways. A psychic? The waiter hadn't said anything about that. The windows were covered in dust, and the door creaked when I opened it, a small bell tinkering to signal my arrival. The place was covered in the same dust as well. Trinkets and things were all laid about; some antiques, but some just things collected over the years. I paused when someone's voice rang out from the desk up front.

"We're not open."

I paused, glancing up from the items around me to see a very peculiar man sitting at the desk with his feet propped up on the surface, reading a magazine. His raven hair was a tangled mess, covered in glitter. He had on eyeliner, and his clothes consisted of many different neon articles. But his eyes were the strangest things. They were like cat eyes; at least that's what I thought. But he blinked, and they seemed to be normal once again.

"Someone told me about you," I said, walking up to where he was sitting. "He said I needed to see you."

"And who is that?" he sounded bored, like he'd heard this everyday.

"Jace Morgenstern."

He set down the magazine, standing abruptly from his chair. "Now we're _really _closed." He said. "I suggest you leave."

"Why?" I didn't mean to sound desperate, but it seemed to come across that way anyway. "My name is Clarissa Fray, I work at the Asylum—"

"I _know _who you are." He replied viciously. "And I don't want you in my shop. Is that clear?"

I choked on my words. "What? How do you know who I am?"

"He talks about you a lot. I was wondering what was so great about you, but to me you just come across as sort of _dull_." He quipped.

"He _talks _to you? How can he talk to you? He never leaves his room." I exclaimed.

"He's terrified and he can't protect himself, that's why I gave him that stupid chalk. But they took away the instrument to mark himself, so now he's even more helpless." He glared at me. "And as for you, you're a lost cause."

My mind was reeling. "What are you talking about?

The curtain in back shifted, and another guy stepped out. He looked about Jace's age, maybe a little older. He reminded me of someone, with his dark hair and blue eyes. But I just wasn't sure.

"Alec, go away. We're fine, I'm just dealing with someone." Magnus turned to Alec, eyebrows raised.

I'd heard that name before, from someone. I knew I had. "Jace never told me what you do. What is it you do?"

"Jace?" Alec choked on the name. "_Jace?_"

Magnus looked beyond frustrated now. "Alec, I told you to leave. I have this under control."

"Who is she? How does she know Jace?" his voice was panicky. "What's your name?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but Magnus cut in. "_Go. _I told you to leave. No go."

I stumbled backwards from the small shove he'd given me, and decided to finally give up. I left, bell clinking as the door opened and shut. Cool air hit me, the scent much fresher than the dank, musty smell of the old shop.

Who was he? What was his story? Jace had told me my eyes were like mirrors, reflecting but never seeing. He was protecting himself, but from what? Was he really insane? A lost cause? Was everything he told me true? My mind was reeling with questions, and I had not one answer to any of them.

That chalk. So that's how he had gotten the chalk, from Magnus.

I was blind, unseeing of something far bigger in this picture that everyone else seemed to understand but me. I felt blind, and weary as well from trying pull the blindfold off from over my eyes. I just didn't know how.

Where was Jace?


End file.
